


There was solace in darkness

by icecreamsuki



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:44:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icecreamsuki/pseuds/icecreamsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a sudden blackout. The flame of the candle triggered childhood memories to be relived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There was solace in darkness

-=-

At a speed of around a hundred words per minute, he was typing in his laptop with that single-minded focus he always possessed when it came to work. He was at it for more than an hour now, occasionally stopping to load his system with caffeine and to look something up in the internet, careful to be accurate with details. After all, it was scribbled in his schedule notebook in his sloppy but decisive penmanship to finish the paper that night.

And then suddenly, there was darkness, followed by a heartfelt curse.

“Shit!”

He was Sakurai Sho, a self-proclaimed workaholic. It was a good thing that being a workaholic for years now had taught him to save the document he was working on at regular intervals or as often as he deemed necessary. He was lucky that his last save point was just a few sentences away. And he was praying that the autosave function would be kind to him. However, his single-minded focus seemed to have backfired on him when he inspected his gadgets and realized that he forgot to charge any of them. His laptop was a hopeless case since it had been running on electricity right before the blackout. His phone’s battery was running low and a part of him – one that was driven by paranoia – didn’t want to use it lest there be more important things to come like a phone call or an urgent message he had to attend to.

Just as he was brainstorming with himself regarding his options for the night, he heard shuffling outside the door, some footsteps, and a sound resembling metal hitting glass. He noticed a faint light seeping through the crack beneath the door afterwards.

Lying on the thin mattress of the bed, he figured some sleep would do him good, after having calculated how many minutes of sleep would be most effective for rest. He tried. He really tried to sleep. He had a few steps away from mastering the art of willing himself to sleep and wake up when necessary to obtain the most conducive and effective number of hours allotted for work. However, he neglected to anticipate the possibility that his sweaty shirt brought about by the summer heat in the countryside would dampen his spirit even further.

He realized he hadn’t anticipated a lot of things after receiving the assignment of covering an event at the countryside after having moved to Tokyo since he took up journalism at college.

After cursing his inefficiency and how badly the night was turning out to be, he stood up and followed the light. There at the table by the window was Ohno, a graduate of Fine Arts from the same university, and Sho’s first and longest friend since he moved to Tokyo. Incidentally, it was Ohno’s hometown and he agreed to accompany Sho on his recent assignment.

“Saying good bye to your work for a while?” Ohno said as he was blowing the flame to let it sway but not enough to put the light out. He was like a moth to a flame, Sho pondered, and the way the flame reflected on his face left a caramel glow of childlike innocence.

“You know when I was young, I used to let the wax on the candle drop on the ground at random and when the lights came back, I would form figures and scenes in my head.”

“I guess it’s something you would do.”

“Yeah,” Ohno said as he lifted the candle and did just that. The room was bathed in swaying light as Ohno let the wax drop on the glass of the table. His single-minded focus when it came to art was just as impressive.

There was a certain kind of softness in Sho’s features as he watched Ohno being in his element – in his own world – for a while, before the rational part of him kicked in. “Hey, perhaps your mother never scolded you when you did that back then, but I’m pretty sure the landlord will. We’re just renting a room at an inn, Ohno-kun,” Sho reminded.

“Don’t worry. Wax on glass comes off easily,” Ohno replied as he determinedly continued what he was doing. He was too into it that Sho didn’t have the heart to stop him now. Besides, who was he to counter the words confidently spoken by an art genius?

Sho merely shrugged at his friend’s good old stubbornness and took a seat across the little table.

_Flame reflected on the eyes of a homeless orphaned kid, forcing himself to stay tough as he shielded his little brother with his bruised hand. All at once, he was reminded of anguish, of ashen faces, of cries and pleas ignored, of failed attempts to placate weary souls, of the desolation of seeing rows of houses succumbing to the wrath of flames._

Ohno was jolted to a stop as he sensed Sho’s trembling.

“Sho-kun! Sho-kun!”

Ohno only heard the story once in passing yet it left an imprint on him despite the ideas delivered being fragmented and rushed – or perhaps because of it. He remembered the hint of reluctance and the roundabout way the words were phrased as the resurfacing of memories came in a disorderly fashion. The fumbling of words and the desperate search for an escape route was a vivid memory. It left Ohno pondering on it for days and nights.

Ohno lifted Sho from his seat – still suspended in a horrifying memory of his childhood - and led him to the couch.

Just as they reached the couch, it started to rain. It was not the sweet kind – the pitter-patter that softly rolls down the glass of the window that protects the giddy children inside, leaving them in a mixture of nostalgia and calmness. It was not the playful kind that teases, that invites people to be carefree under navy skies, clothes drenched, yet bodies brimming with vitality. It was not the romantic kind wherein lovers find it an illogically opportune time to share a kiss – or more.

No, it was the ruthless kind with big drops as if an attack from a vengeful enemy.

The unforgiving sound of the rain brought Sho back to his senses, and Ohno couldn’t help but notice the pain reflected in those eyes when Sho glanced at the candle once again. While Ohno had fond memories, Sho had awful ones buried deep within him, triggered by something as mundane as a blackout in the countryside. Back in Tokyo, blackouts were only momentary, if not a rare occurrence. Ohno felt a twinge of guilt that this had to happen while they were at his hometown. Wanting to make things right, he purposely approached the table and blew the candle decisively once and for all.

“Ohno-kun,” Sho called out with a mixture of curiosity and relief.

The bruised hand was gently held by steady ones, not necessarily strong but safe and secure. Warmth flowed delivering a message of reassurance. There was solace in the darkness.

“Thank you,” Sho whispered as he squeezed his bruised hands to deliver a message of his own.

-=-


End file.
